impressively. "Think over what I have said. Now let us
join mamma. But, as I live, here is Lumley himself. However, it is not
yet the time to sound him:--I hope that he has no chance with that Lady
Florence."

CHAPTER VI.

"Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections."--_Tempest_.

MEANWHILE the betrothed were on their road to London. The balmy and
serene beauty of the day had induced them to perform the short journey
on horseback. It is somewhere said, that lovers are never so handsome as
in each other's company, and neither Florence nor Ernest ever looked so
well as on horseback. There was something in the stateliness and grace
of both, something even in the aquiline outline of their features and
the haughty bend of the neck, that made a sort of likeness between these
young persons, although there was no comparison as to their relative
degrees of personal advantage: the beauty of Florence defied all
comparison. And as they rode from Cleveland's porch, where the other
guests yet lingering were assembled to give the farewell greeting, there
was a general conviction of the happiness destined to the affianced
ones,--a general impression that both in mind and person they were
eminently suited to each other. Their position was that which is ever
interesting, even in more ordinary people, and at that moment they were
absolutely popular with all who gazed on them; and when the good old
Cleveland turned away with tears in his eyes and murmured "Bless them!"
there was not one of the party who would have hesitated to join the
prayer.

Florence felt a nameless dejection as she quitted a spot so consecrated
by grateful recollections.

"When shall we be again so happy?" said she, softly, as she turned back
to gaze upon the landscape, which, gay with flowers and shrubs, and the
bright English verdure, smiled behind them like a garden.

"We will try and make my old hall, and its gloomy shades, remind us of
these fairer scenes, my Florence."

"Ah! describe to me the character of your place. We shall live there
principally, shall we not? I am sure I shall like it much better than
Marsden Court, which is the name of that huge pile of arches and columns
in Vanbrugh's heaviest taste, which will soon be yours."

"I fear we shall never dispose of all your mighty retinue, grooms of the
chamber, and Patagonian footmen, and Heaven knows who besides, in the
holes and corners of Burleigh," said Ernest smiling. And then h